


Voices of the Dead

by TheBodyBioelectric



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Lesbian Character, Canon Lesbian Relationship, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/F, My favorite Lesbian puppies, Nothing HAPPENS but still, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, a lot of serious shit too, also a minor tag for sexual assault, i mean mostly, like you probably will be fine but like take care of yourselves, only emotional smut here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 14:08:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11533827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBodyBioelectric/pseuds/TheBodyBioelectric
Summary: Veronica has woken up in worse places than on a ceremonial alter in the middle of dead city. Not that she can think of any at the moment, but she's sure it's happened. Besides, this city houses someone else's painful past, certainly not hers. Right?





	Voices of the Dead

Veronica supposed things could be worse.

Maybe the floors could be on fire, or her knife could break, or maybe the Enclave would come back from beyond the grave to seek vengeance on her specifically. 

As it was though, hiding in a trash pile in a choking red cloud in her underwear was really starting to grate on her.

She supposed that finding herself in this situation might mean that she should revise some of her policies regarding old world technology. But the broadcast enticing her to come to the Sierra Madre had specifically said that the reward had already been given out, so she really didn’t think it was reasonable to assume that she would have found herself the victim of automated security measures.

She had been, though. After walking through the desert for weeks, guiding herself only by the directions her compass had given her and what she felt like was a pretty clever radio device to keep her walking in a straight line, she had come upon what she assumed was an entrance way to the Sierra Madre resort. After walking into a small room however, she had been knocked out with a strange red gas she assumed had to be the cloud that Six described. Veronica’s last memory was of sliding down into a tilting floor, headed for a pitch-black shaft.

She had awoken in her underwear tied to a metal table. Candles surrounded her, casting a flickering light on the various dried herbs and other plants hanging from the ceiling. Turning her head, Veronica saw a large, poster sized drawing of herself sitting propped up in pre-war gold frame, resting on what looked like a small shrine. Two large candles guttered on either side of her face, which was turned somewhat coyly towards the artist. She shuddered when she saw a very intimidating looking knife sitting underneath it.

Turning her head after hearing a scraping sound, she saw a small doorway. In the hazy half-light, it was difficult to make out exactly what it was that was walking around out there, but Veronica saw that the figure had glowing green eyes and a shambling gait. She held her breathe and closed her eyes until the thing was out of earshot. 

Wiggling desperately at the straps that held her, she wasn’t able to pull free, but she did manage to push her arm far enough away from her body that she could just barely touch the knife with her finger tips. Which would have been great, if she didn’t have to reach directly over several open flames to do so.

After ten minutes of desperately inching the knife handle closer to her hand and burning her wrist periodically, she managed to finally get a grip on the knife. Grinning triumphantly, she quickly cut away the leather holding her down and got out of the bed.

No sooner did her feet touch the floor than Veronica heard the rasping, dragging sound coming faintly from down the hallway. Panicking, looked for another way out.

Eventually, her eyes locked on the only other exit to the room other than the door: a small trash chute.

Grimacing, Veronica slipped the knife into her waistband and tucked her frame into the cramped metal confines as quietly as she could and began shimmying down towards a positively repugnant smell as fast as she could without making a sound. It turned out that ‘as fast as she could’ was still agonizingly slow. Which was why half an hour later, she could hear a chorus of rasping and clicking sounds from the room she had just escaped from as her captors learned of what she considered to be her quite daring escape.

After another half hour of careful inching, Veronica finally came to the end of her trip in the disgusting smelling chute rather unexpectedly as she reached out for a foothold that didn’t exist before falling a terrifying ten feet onto a large pile of garbage.

Which is how she found herself barely daring to breath and half naked in a trash pile.

After ten minutes of not hearing any rasping or unnerving clicking, she got to her feet and began picking her way through the trash pile towards the door labeled exit.

Just as she was starting to feel like she could pat herself on the back for being sneaky for once in her life, she saw a pair of bright green eyes staring at her in the near darkness of the trash room. A second later, she heard the rasping and clicking sounds burst from the figure.

Veronica stopped thinking and slammed through the doors at top speed. Several more of the monsters were on the street, but Veronica took advantage of their momentary confusion to sprint past them and into the ruins of a village behind them. Soon she heard rasping and clicking sounds behind her.

After several hours playing the least fun game of hide and seek ever, Veronica finally found herself alone. The red cloud that seemed to permeate everything made her eyes water and was making it hard to breath, let alone exert herself, and she was starting to feel sleepy as the lack of oxygen started to catch up to her brain. 

Veronica needed a way back to her stuff. She had brought enough oxygen tanks, stim packs, armor, and ballistic fists that she hadn’t really thought twice about this place getting the better of her, and if she could get back to it, she would be in good shape. 

As she wondered where her stuff was, she forgot to look where she was going. Stepping on a newspaper, she felt crushing metal jaws snap tightly as they bit into her leg. Letting out a startled scream of pain, Veronica looked down in horror to see her leg half caught in a bear trap. Suddenly, rasping a clicking sounded from all around her as the monsters from before started to crawl out of alleys and gutters and from both ends of the street.

Tears running down her face from the pain, Veronica pulled out her knife and desperately tried to hit the release. Finally, she managed it, but she could tell it was too late as the green eyes closed around her. 

Veronica closed her eyes.

Suddenly, the clicking sounds stopped, replaced by rasping breathing. Opening her eyes, she can see the figures frozen around her, listening to now audible footsteps approaching from the street. 

Within seconds, the monsters scattered like radroaches before a light source, skittering away to alleys and sewers. Veronica sees a good image of the black clad figure that caused the monsters to scatter once they round a corner of the street: a short figure, wearing a hooded cloak and holding a large walking stick. A large rebreather covers what Veronica sincerely hopes is the bottom half of a face, but judging by the horrible scars that crisscross the parts of her face she can see there is no guarantee in this place that there isn’t a clacking skeleton jaw or worse under the mask. Veronica very much does not intend to find out.

Sprinting in the opposite direction as the hooded figure, Veronica dashed into what looks like a utility shed and almost runs headlong into a hole in the floor. Stopping just short, she turns around and slams the door shut on the black clad figure, who is uncomfortably close. Bracing her back against the door, she desperately searches for something she can use to defend herself with. She briefly considers the knife on her hip, but scratches the idea once she remembers that the army of undead cult followers she had fled from were actively terrified of whatever was following her. 

Sweating and wheezing, Veronica expected the stranger to try to force their way in. Instead, she heard a series of taps echo ominously off the sheet metal door and around the shack she was in. After several seconds, Veronica realized that whatever was out there was talking to her in Morse code. 

Keeping her shuddering breathing to a minimum, she eventually deciphered the message: Let me in, I’m safe.

Veronica snorted. 

She tapped her own message back through the door: Nuts.

As the figure on the other side of the door considered her message, and then began trying to assure her that she was just a human who lived here, Veronica spotted a rake in the corner next to her that she could reach with her foot. Reaching over with her foot, Veronica slid the rake over to herself as a plan formed.

Whatever was on the other side had just completed a long and in no way suspicious denial of being in anyway affiliated with the monsters that had attacked her, and asked to be let in again.

Veronica let out a deep breath and tapped back: I’m opening the door.

Letting her weight off the door, she crouched in the corner, rake extended.

The black clad figure took a cautious step into the room, and Veronica raised her rake. The figure’s foot caught on the wooden handle, and with a burst of mechanically muffled sound fell headfirst into the hole Veronica had nearly fallen into herself. 

Seeing her opportunity, Veronica shot out of the shed like a mad woman, running at top speed. Where could she go in this hellish landscape? 

Hearing herself wheezing as she ran, she decided to solve her most immediate problem first. Bursting through a rusting gate with an old-world logo on it, Veronica hoped that she was correct in her assumption that the hotel would have a functioning air filtration system. Otherwise, this was going to be a very uncomfortable way to die.

After looking behind and realizing nothing was following her, she slunk down into a crouch and cautiously approached the doors to the casino.

Opening the doors, she was greeted by a flickering blue hologram of a beautiful woman in an equally beautiful dress. 

“Greetings, and welcome to the Sierra Madre. Since it’s been verified that you are not a ghost person, feel free to take any refreshments or medical treatment you may need. The Mistress is out for the evening. I regret to inform you that the treasure is no longer here. However, you’ll certainly have a tale to tell,” The woman informed her in a sultry voice. “Please do not take any weapons or go up to the executive suites until the Mistress returns. The holo security will protect you from any threats. Thank you for your cooperation.” 

Veronica snorted. 

She was definitely going to get some weapons and go up to the executive suites. 

While whoever had reprogramed the computers was good at their job, Veronica was extraordinarily thankful that Christine had made her pay attention in her Scribe classes about bypassing old world lockout screens. She easily accessed the functions hidden behind it, and after turning off the holographic greeter, Veronica started to run up to the elevator that was labeled suites. 

She stopped in her tracks when she saw a small pile of food and water arrayed on a table in the middle of the foyer. Her stomach growled and her throat burned, but she reminded herself this was probably as much of a trap as the bunker had been. After several longing looks, she started towards the staircase again, only to once again stop in stunned silence. 

The old theatre photos of long gone performers had almost all been removed, save for one picture of Dean Domino that simply had ‘Ass’ scrawled across it in bright red letters. Something about the images caught her eye, but her mind wasn’t quite processing what the repeated images of women all had in common.

Veronica blinked in disbelief when she realized that the old pictures had been replaced by images of her. There was a variety of styles and poses, from extremely realistic close-ups in pencil to almost surrealist paintings to one that looked like it was spray painted on from a stencil.

Shuddering, Veronica jogged up the stairs only to see more images of herself around the elevator, along with some landscapes of the dead city.

Efficiently bypassing the lock on the elevator, she hotwired the elevator call button. The doors slid open almost too easily. Rolling her shoulders and trying not to get spooked by the unnerving lobby, Veronica stepped forwards.

The executive suites were somehow both creepier and homelier than the lobby. If Veronica looked past the room filled with what looked like a serial killer’s diagram of pictures connected by strings, the terrifyingly room of varied weapons and armor she raided, and the pictures of herself that covered the walls, it wasn’t that bad. She even felt a slight ache in her chest when she saw the similarities that the layout and workbenches had to the hole in the ground she had grown up in.

Finding a bathroom sink, she greedily sucked in water, coughing up red dust as soon as the moisture hit her throat. Gulping greedily, she forgot everything in her quest to purge herself of the disgusting taste and the ache that had settled in her lungs. After drinking for several minutes, she stopped just short of making herself sick and decided to move on, remembering where she was.

Finally, she moved on to the last room she opened the doors and sucked in her breath.

It was a grand bedroom, filled with a gigantic, comfortable looking bed. Art supplies were tucked neatly into one corner, along with a half-completed meal in another and a make shift fireplace obviously retro fitted to the room.

And more pictures of her.

Nude.

Her brain was not able to process this latest information and so she stood and gaped for several seconds while she waited for her mind to reboot. 

“What the f-” Veronica started before she felt an arm slip around her throat and felt herself slip into a sleeper hold.

“Let go of me!” she managed to sputter out as she kicked wildly behind her.

“Veronica, it’s me, it’s Christine, stop struggling,” The starlet’s voice from the lobby whispered in her ear.

“No you’re not!” Veronica choked out as she jumped up to try to gain leverage to the throw her attacker off her. However, whoever was using the starlet’s voice anticipated the move and twisted underneath her, throwing both to the ground with a thud.

“Vee, it’s me baby, this will all make sense,” the figure behind her said before grunting from the elbow Veronica threw behind her. But she could tell it was too weak to shake off the iron grip of the black clad figure, and she knew she wasn’t going to be able to remain conscious for much longer. 

“Fuck. you,” Veronica spat out as she desperately clawed at her attacker’s arm as black closed in on the edges of her vision.

When she woke up, the figure from before was just finishing securing her spread eagle to the large bed with pink fuzzy bondage equipment. Veronica couldn’t breathe.

“No, no, no, no, no, no,” She murmured to herself as she tried to focus on something in the room that didn’t make her want to vomit in terror. Instead she only found only the naked portrait of her that she never remembered posing for.

“Shit, Vee, I’m not- ok, this looks really bad… but I promise it is not what it looks like,” her abductor said in an embarrassed tone. 

“The fuck this isn’t what it looks like,” Veronica spat at her. “Just get it over with, shit stain.”

“I’m tying you up because I know how hard you punch, Vee… not because I’m some creep,” her captor said in a huffy tone before following Veronica’s gaze to the nude painting.

“That’s not helping my case, is it,” the figure said as she pulled back her hood to reveal a buzz cut with more scars crisscrossing her scalp.

“Not especially,” Veronica said with a scowl. 

“Ok, to be fair, I definitely did not… intend anyone but me to see those,” the figure said as she pulled the rebreather fully off her face. At least she had a normal jawline. Veronica frowned.

“Well that certainly makes it less creepy for you to have naked pictures of me,” Veronica said as the woman turned the painting around and set it on the floor.

“It’s not like you haven’t seen me naked,” The woman said.

“No! I haven’t! I have no particular desire to see what ever gross thing you’re hiding under that get up either,” Veronica said with a scowl. “You. Are. Not. Christine.”

“Yeah, Vee, I am… See that auto doc over there? It changed my voice,” The woman said as she sat down on the bed next to Veronica. 

“And I’m sure you have a bridge over the Divide to sell me,” Veronica said. “I suppose you just happened to pick a fight with lawnmower too?”

The woman looked like she’d been slapped and turned away.

“Worse,” She said in a tired voice.

“What then?” Veronica asked, refusing to be embarrassed for how rude she was being.

“Elijah,” the woman said looking at her feet. Veronica felt her stomach drop out. She looked more carefully at the woman sitting in front of her.

She was older, and thinner than the Christine she had known. Not quite as bald. And she definitely sounded wrong. But when she focused on the face, looked past the scars and looked at her eyes, Veronica knew.

“Shit,” Veronica said. “It really is you.”

“Partly,” Christine said as she looked away.

“Shit, I shouldn’t have said the thing about fighting a lawn mower,” Veronica said as her whole face turned red.

“It’s true,” Christine said, still not looking at Veronica. She held a beat, letting Veronica stew in her own juices for several agonizing seconds.

“But you should see the lawn mower,” Christine said with a small grin as she looked back slyly at Veronica. Veronica smiled back.

“Truce? I forgive you for the pictures and we call it even?” Veronica said.

“The pictures are not that bad,” Christine said as she folded her hands over her chest.

“Babe. Yes, they are,” Veronica said. “I mean, I’m touched I’m still your masturbation fodder, but it’s definitely creepy.”

“I don’t-!” Christine says, eyebrows practically shooting off her forehead. “That’s not what those are there for!”

“Sure, they’re just platonic girly pics in your bedroom,” Veronica said. “I get how it is, gal pal.”

“You’re impossible,” Christine grumbled as she untied Veronica, failing to hide a smile.

“You know, I don’t want to make it weird with your current girlfriend, Rosie, but since I’m in town I was wondering if you wanted to get some dinner,” Veronica said as she sat up, stomach grumbling.

“I don’t have a current girl… dammit,” Christine said as she rolled her eyes.

“Hey, I know how seriously Ms. Palms can be about monogamy,” Veronica said with a giant grin.

“Jerk,” Christine said. A silence fell between them.

“I miss this,” Veronica said quietly.

“Me too,” Christine said. 

“I realize we’re going to have a lot of shit to talk about at this dinner, but I just wanted to say thanks for rescuing me before we started all that,” Veronica said.

“Always,” Christine said earnestly before looking away somewhat awkwardly. “One thing I have to ask before we start though.”

“What?” Veronica asked.

“Did the brotherhood send you? I won’t try to stop you, whatever you need to do… I just have to know,” Christine said as she slumped where she sat.

“I’m not with the Brotherhood anymore,” Veronica said quietly. 

“What happened?” Christine asked, taken aback.

“Exactly what you said would happen,” Veronica said as she let out huff. “They wouldn’t listen to anything I had to say. And then they tried to kill me for saying it.”

Christine looked at her with the biggest eyes Veronica had ever seen.

“I think you get a pretty fucking huge I told you so here,” Veronica said as she shifted awkwardly.

“I didn’t really want to be right,” Christine said with a pause. “I don’t know if that makes it any easier.”

“A little,” Veronica said. “You’re going to get more of those at dinner though.”

“So are you,” Christine said. They stared at each other just a little too deeply, and then quickly broke eye contact.

“Right,” Veronica said. “Dinner then.”

“I know a place,” Christine said with a smile.

“Would you mind if I borrowed a dress? I mean unless you want to keep half-naked,” Veronica asked. Christine blushed and looked away.

“Right. Right. Clothing. Um, there should be some stuff in the walk-in closet over there,” Christine said. “I don’t know if they have dresses in your size, but I don’t think I threw everything of Vera’s out.”

“Vera?” Veronica asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Not like that. Ugh. Not even a little bit like that… She’s the woman all this was built for. We’re in her room…” Christine said. “Well, it’s mine now, but it was built for her.”

“Where is she now?” Veronica asked.

“Dean buried her in the garden,” Christine said. “Well, what was left after 200 years.”

“I see,” Veronica said. “This is going to be least weird part of this conversation, isn’t it?”

“Definitely,” Christine said as she stood. “I’ll let you change.”

“Thanks,” Veronica said as she moved to the closet to hunt for something to wear.

An hour later, Veronica walked down the stairs of the Sierra Madre with slightly damp hair and wearing a beautiful pre-war dress. She heard a small inhale of breath as she turned to see Christine standing in an exceptionally well-tailored suit by the door to what used to be the restaurant. 

“What do you think? It’s not quite the right size, but still pretty nice duds,” Veronica said as she looked down at herself.

“It’s perfect,” Christine murmured before turning red again. “Uh, for your sense of fashion. Very… glitzy.”

“Sure, tiger. Your lesbian zoot suit matches your sense of… fashion, too,” Veronica practically purred.

“I can’t tell if you’re… making fun of me or flirting,” Christine said with narrowed eyes.

“Why not both? Now, show me the food, wench,” Veronica grinned. Christine rolled her eyes but opened the door to the restaurant with a flourish and held it until Veronica walked through.

“Now, which table would you like?” Christine asked. 

“How about that one? More privacy,” Veronica said with a grin as she pointed to booth.

“As you wish,” Christine said with a mock bow as they walked over to a table. Veronica was slightly surprised when Christine sat down across from her.

“Don’t you need to get the food, or is this a weird white glove society thing?” Veronica asked.

“What’s the White Glove Society?” Christine asked.

“Basically? Cannibals Anonymous,” Veronica said.

“Ah,” Christine said. “Well, no need to eat each other… uh, here’s our food.”

A holographic waiter walked out of the kitchen carrying two steaming brahmin steaks heaped with side dishes. 

“Ok, that’s pretty cool,” Veronica said as she watched the waiter set their food down wordless and then walk away. 

“They cook, too,” Christine said proudly.

“That’s good, since both me and the fire fighters remember our first anniversary,” Veronica with a smile.

“You set one pan on fire,” Christine muttered. 

“All right, I’m going to shovel food in my mouth for ten minutes, and then we are going to talk,” Veronica said as she greedily dug into her meal.

“Yes, ma’am,” Christine said softly before turning back to eating her own meal. 

Four minutes later, Veronica’s curiosity finally overcame her.

“Ok, so what happened?” Veronica asked, before she jammed another large bite into her mouth.

“You’ll have to be more specific,” Christine said.

“Ok, how did you become Queen of the undead?” Veronica asked.

“I’m not the Queen… ok, the ghost people have been at this resort since the war. They view holograms as sacred, since they are effectively immortal… and they regard me as a hologram, now,” Christine said.

“That was the humblest badass boast ever,” Veronica said with a grin. 

“If you live here long enough, they’ll consider anyone a hologram,” Christine said with a shrug. “If you left the Brotherhood… why are you here?”

“There’s a town, recently brought under NCR control,” Veronica said as Christine visibly bristled. “They’re up in the Rockies, and their only water source is an inaccessible aqueduct that’s falling into disrepair. I figured I could use a hologram projector to patch it up remotely.”

“I don’t mean to be too codex-ey… but why would you help the NCR?” Christine asked.

“They aren’t bad people. They make mistakes, but they’re surviving. Expanding. They’re the best humanity has to offer now, governmentally. They even made peace with the Brotherhood,” Veronica said. “I don’t always agree with them, but they care. More importantly, they can actually make a difference.”

Christine leaned back in her chair.

“I’m shocked McNamara would ever go for a truce… so much has changed,” She said wistfully.

“I mean, not everything. They’re still homophobic, paranoid, insular jackasses,” Veronica said with a roll of her eyes. “They still refuse to adapt. I think they might have only traded a quick death for a long one, as an organization.”

“Maybe that deserves to happen,” Christine said. 

“Maybe,” Veronica said, as her eyes became clouded.

“I’m surprised you haven’t asked about my scars,” Christine said, trying to break her ex-girlfriend out of her funk.

“I mean, I kind of figured you got them on purpose to look even more like a BAMF,” Veronica said.

Christine snorted before her face turned more serious as she said, “Maybe I shouldn’t have brought this up.”

“Hey, if you don’t want to talk about it, it’s fine. But if you didn’t get them running a puppy fighting ring, I’m willing to listen,” Veronica said. “I mean, I don’t think you would have brought it up if you didn’t want to tell me about it on some level.”

“Thank you,” Christine said. “You have to let me... finish though.”

“Don’t I always,” Veronica said with a wink.

“You’re… incorrigible,” Christine said before her face turned solemn again. “You know I joined the Circle of Steel, right?”

“To hunt down father Elijah,” Veronica said as her face darkened slightly. “Yeah, I remember. They did this to you? Why?”

“No, they didn’t… when I was hunting down Father Elijah, I tracked him to a secret laboratory called the Big Empty… It’s a bit of a misnomer, there were a ton of science projects that tried to kill me there, including the experiments running the place…” Christine said as she closed her eyes. “I had him. In my sights… But I didn’t pull the trigger when I had the chance.”

“Why?” Veronica asked, puzzled.

“You,” Christine said. “I would have had to hit him in the knee… the brains would have gotten him, but his end wouldn’t have been very… humane,” She said.

“The brains?” Veronica asked.

“Floating, preserved brains… ran the place. Definition of mad scientists…” Christine said. “Elijah didn’t have the same… compunctions about turning me over to them. So, the scars up here.” 

“What where they even trying to do, brain surgery?” Veronica asked, shocked.

“In a manner of speaking… they tried to lobotomize me,” Christine said. Veronica’s hand flew to her mouth.

“How did you get out?” the taller woman asked softly as she reached across the table and took Christine’s hand in hers.

“Another man, a courier, got me out before they did too much damage,” Christine said with a brief twitch of a smile. “Those couriers really do have… quality service.”

“Tell me about it,” Veronica said. “Is that why you pause when you talk?”

“Partially… they messed up my language centers,” Christine said as she looked away in shame. “I can’t even read anymore. But my speech is mostly ok. Math’s fine too. Just illiterate.”

“Chrissy,” Veronica said as she squeezed Christine’s hand. “That’s awful.”

“Better than wandering around attacking anything I see and… shitting myself,” Christine said with a grim smile. “But it’s certainly not my first choice.”

“How did you get the scars on your throat?” Veronica asked gently.

“Father Elijah again,” Christine said, as she felt cold sweat break out on her scalp. “He… locked me in… another Auto doc… set it to… cut my vocal chords.”

“Christ,” Veronica said as her eyes got wide. “What happened after the surgery ended if he locked you in?”

“It… kept performing… the surgery…” Christine said.

“How long,” Veronica said as her eyes narrowed and her brow furled.

“I don’t know… Long enough that it ran out of… anesthetic. Not so long that I… completely lost my mind,” Christine said as she gripped Veronica’s hand like a lifeline.

“That son of bitch,” Veronica said as she started to shake in fury. “That son of a bitch! I want to bring him back from the dead just to kill that motherfucker again!”

“Vee, I’m sorry,” Christine said, unsure of what to do.

“Do not apologize. Not for this. Jesus, who does he even… did he even… I’m so mad I can’t even think,” Veronica said as she closed her eyes before opening them again. “I’m so glad you got out.”

“Another Courier let me out,” Christine said. “You know Father Elijah is dead?” 

“Yeah, yeah, Six told me. I’ve dealt with it, mostly. I wasn’t completely blind to his faults, just mostly,” Veronica said tiredly before stopping. “The courier who let you out wouldn’t happen to have killed Father Elijah herself, by any chance?”

“You know her too?” Christine said in mild shock. 

“Yeah, she’s the one that got me to leave the brotherhood. I crash in her hotel,” Veronica said.

“Oh. Are you two…?” Christine asked.

“Oh, no, nothing like that. We’re just friends. I think I’m too femme for her, if Cass is anything to go by,” Veronica said and then paused. “Wait, you two weren’t a thing, were you?”

“It’s… complicated,” Christine said. 

“Ok, that’s how you described our relationship to elder McNamara,” Veronica said as she pointed her hand accusatorily. “Spill or I’m assuming you boned.”

“We did not… I’m sure Six has told you this much, but we were in a… pretty fucked up situation. There were four of us… being controlled by collars. We were all survivors, but… the other two weren’t… trustworthy,” Christine said. “Dean is a… greedy narcissist, and Dog was violent and schizophrenic… But we had each other. It wasn’t a basis for any kind of… relationship, but it got pretty… intense, emotionally. Just hand holding and cuddling, but… intense.”

Veronica nodded.

“That makes sense, actually. Why didn’t you leave with Six then?” Veronica asked.

“I’ve tried the whole just friends thing with people I’ve had feelings for before, if you remember… didn’t work out,” Christine said with a sad look at Veronica. 

“Yeah. I guess we’re kind of getting to the elephant in the room. Well, the biggest elephant. Like the matriarch of our herd of elephants,” Veronica said. Christine gave her a sad smile.

“Something this place teaches you… you have to let go,” Christine said with a sad smile.

“I see,” Veronica said. The steak seemed to turn to acid in her stomach.

“Not… like that. God, you can be such a dramatic gay sometimes,” Christine huffed. “I meant… letting go of who was right when… it doesn’t matter. Not now.”

“Oh,” Veronica said. “Do you still want to talk about what happened though?”

“Yes. But I wanted you to know before we started that I’m not… married to a position. I just want to… bury the hatchet. Start again… from scratch, if we have to,” Christine said. 

“Ok. That sounds good. I’ll start then: I was wrong to try to make you stay. You were right, the brotherhood was killing itself. Even more than that, I shouldn’t have held our relationship hostage the way I did,” Veronica said. 

“Thank you. I’m sorry I assumed you were ready to go… from our home, just because I was ready,” Christine said. “And I’m sorry I joined the COS without telling you. I decided on an impulse… not an impulse I’m proud of… and you deserved better than for me to just disappear.”

“I’m sorry for everything with Elijah,” Veronica said with tears in her eyes.

“Not Father Elijah?” Christine asked.

“He’s no father to me. I don’t think he ever was,” Veronica said bitterly. 

“He made those choices, Vee… not you. Don’t blame yourself,” Christine said as she reached across the table, instinctively brushing away a tear before she pulled back awkwardly.

“I was blind, though. I put so much faith in him, and I shouldn’t have. I know I didn’t do those things, but the fact that I could have ever put my trust in someone who could do those unforgivable things to you… who could do what he did to us. What he wanted to do to the world,” Veronica said shuddering. “I can’t not be partially responsible. I’m willing to own up to it.”

“Vee,” Christine said quietly before sliding into the booth on her side of the table and holding her as she cried her eyes out, clutching at the smaller woman’s form.

After several more hours of telling each other about their lives, at some point cracking open a bottle of vodka, Veronica and Christine found themselves hiking up the ten floors to the executive suites, bottle hanging loosely in Christine’s hand.

“It has to suck living on the tenth floor and not being able to use the elevator without reliving horrible psychological trauma,” Veronica said.

“It keeps my thighs firm,” Christine said and Veronica giggled.

“Well, it’s pretty good for your ass too,” Veronica said with a licentious grin.

“You have such a one-track mind,” Christine said in a mock serious tone.

“You don’t know that! Maybe I’m makin’ a machine in my head right now at the same time,” Veronica said.

“Yeah? What’s the machine do?” Christine asked with a grin.

“I’ll give you three guesses,” Veronica said with an inordinately pleased grin.

“Hmmm, does it discipline those with non-codex abiding behavior?” Christine asked. 

“For you, that can be arranged. You kinky dyke,” Veronica said with a giggle. Christine laughed.

“I have one last question,” Veronica said.

“Go,” Christine said.

“How did the ghost people get a picture of me? And why did they put it on a shrine?” Veronica asked.

“Huh. So that’s what happened to it,” Christine said. “I draw when I’m out, sometimes… one time, I accidently left my sketchbook in a building… They must have taken it.”

“Well, it’s nice know I’m favored by a goddess, then,” Veronica said as they finally reached the top floor.

“You’re still… very smooth,” Christine said as they stopped in front of the doors to her bedroom.

“You’re not nearly as smooth as I left you,” Veronica said with a grin as she stepped into Christine’s personal space and then rubbed her buzzcut. “Ooooooh…”

“What?” Christine said as she tried to control her breathing standing next to Veronica. 

“It’s so soft,” Veronica said as she began running her other hand through Christine’s hair. Christine shuddered underneath her.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I should have asked. Is this ok?” Veronica asked.

“It’s um… very ok,” Christine said trying to not let her emotions get the better of her.

“Are you sure? You look like you want to say something,” Veronica said.

“Um…” Christine said before she huffed out a laugh. “I’ve wanted to say everything for so long, and I can finally talk again… and I’m still mute…”

“Do you mind if I talk first?” Veronica asked. “Because I really want to tell you that I’ve missed you, that my biggest regret is ever letting you out of my sight. That I love you, and I’ll always love you. And that I really, really want to kiss you right now.”

Christine let out breathy sigh and inched her face closer to Veronica, seconds before Veronica closed the distance and pulled the smaller woman into a deep kiss.

Veronica gently backed the smaller woman into her door, their lips remembering each other instantly. Veronica moaned as Christine gently pushed her tongue into her mouth. With practiced ease, she hoisted Veronica’s smaller frame up as Christine wrapped her legs around Veronica’s hips, never breaking contact between their lips. 

After Veronica pushed her way into the room and lay Christine gently down onto the bed, Christine finally broke their kiss, holding Veronica’s cheeks in her hands.

“We should wait until we’re not drunk to go farther,” Christine said.

“You’re probably right. As long as I get to make out with this hottie in front of me,” Veronica said.

“I think that can be arranged,” Christine said with a smile as their lips locked again. After several minutes of passionate kissing, Veronica realized she was having difficulty keeping her eyes open.

“Hey, can I- can I sleep in this bed? With you?” Veronica asked.

“Please do,” Christine murmured. “I’ve missed my big spoon.” 

“Well, as long as I serve a purpose here,” Veronica said with a small smile as she began to unceremoniously shimmy out of her dress as Christine stripped down to her underwear. Settling into her familiar scent, Christine tucked her body behind Christine’s and pulled the covers over them. Christine was softly snoring within minutes.

The last thought Veronica had before drifting off to sleep was that she supposed things could get better sometimes. She nuzzled her nose into Christine’s neck and fell into a deep sleep for the first time she could remember.


End file.
